The Taste of Cigarettes
by It's Still a Secret
Summary: "With the way Sanji forever latched onto the tiny rolled up piece of paper, Zoro really had to wonder, just what was so good about cigarettes? Did they really taste all that great?" Zoro finds a curiosity about cigarette that he aims to sate. Subtle implications of ZoSan. Small bits of humour and cuteness if I do say so myself.
Quiet was the evening sea as Zoro sat up in the crow nest of the Going Merry, chin perched up on it's wooden frame and arms dangling lazily over the side.

Most of the crew had already retired for the night, save for the few night owls of the ship.

His eyes drew towards the light of the galley where the shitty cook and Robin were currently accompanying each other, Robin to finish off the manky looking tome she had begun flicking through at dinner and Sanji perusing what was left of today's feastings.

Zoro shivered slightly. Sanji and the opposite sex alone in the same enclosed space? Zoro could hear the high-pitched squeals (of delights) already, and you can bet he wasn't talking about Robin.

Zoro was in the middle of a bellowing yawn, when he noticed the door of the galley open. Surely enough Robin, still talking over her shoulder (bidding the shitty cook a good night probably), emerged, book in hand. She gave the cook one last smile before withdrawing herself, failing not to bid the swordsman a goodnight as well.

Couple minutes of nothingness passed until the lights of the galley were finally flicked off, a Sanji stepping out from the darkness.

Zoro's eyes trailed after the other man as he made his way across the deck right to the edge of the ship where he proceeded to, similar to Zoro, lean over the side of the ship, elbows propped on the banisters.

For a moment, a small flame lit up Sanji's face and Zoro took the short window of opportunity to appreciate the low warm glow of the other man's face.

Sanji took one long drag, sating his nicotine lust, giving out what Zoro couldn't hear, but assumed was a moan of relief. Another drag or two and Sanji then allowed the cigarette the rest between his lips. He crossed his arms on top of Merry's banister and laid his head down upon them, staring out into the black depths of the sea that sparkled with the small speckles of light from the stars.

Zoro, as if in a hypnotic trance, watched as Sanji twirled the little death stick round and around, catching little glimpses of the fleshy appendage that was the centripetal force behind the motion.

With the way Sanji forever latched onto the tiny rolled up piece of paper, Zoro really had to wonder, just what was so good about cigarettes? Did they really taste all that great?

Well, Sanji always tasted _amazing_ , smokey breathe and all.

Zoro figured it couldn't be bad.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, Zoro made several attempts to try get Sanji to give him one of his precious sticks but was stubbornly refused, instead given inane bullshit about smoke suffocating poor little marimos.

It kind of pissed Zoro off to be constantly refused, but no matter, if Sanji wouldn't give him one, he would just have to take it.

But even that was no easy feat as it usually ended up with the two battling it out, up until the point of turning into a spar where Zoro always forgot his initial objective.

Oh but not today. Nope.

Today, Zoro hit the jackpot.

Because today the tangerines were ripe.

And ripe tangerines meant a busy Sanji, and a busy Sanji meant a distracted Sanji and a distracted Sanji meant that he just so happened to have accidentally left his defenseless packet of cigarette back in the kitchen while he happily wiggled about on the deck serving heaping cups of tangy tangerine sorbets to _his wonderful ladies._

Not that Zoro even had the mental capacity to manipulatively come up with such a plan, let alone even just pick up and take advantage of this most opportune moment.

Really? You think he gave a shit about which seasons the tangerines were ripe? That's was the love cook's problem, not his.

So when Zoro happened upon Sanji's unguarded cigarettes in his mission to steal a drink by pure, dumb luck … well his shit eating grin said it all.

With a smugness that compared to no other, he snagged a cigarette, shoving it in his Haramaki.

He refused Sanji a glance as he slid past him at the door.

Immediately Zoro made for the back of the ship, and passed the imaginary gates that only he was allowed to pass, well and Sanji too he supposed – Sanji needed to bring him food afterall.

Zoro sat himself down on the deck, leaning back against the wall that separated indoors from outdoors.

Once comfortable, he plucked out his prize from his Haramaki and beamed at it with (misplaced) victory. Promptly licking his lips in what I could only guess was anticipation, he placed the cancerous weapon in his mouth, gripping it with his teeth like he'd seen Sanji do a million times before.

He waited.

And waited.

Waited some more.

"What the heck … doesn't taste like anything."

"Idiot, you're meant to light it first."

Zoro startled at the familiar sweet, baritone voice (not that he'd care to admit – both the startled and the sweet voice).

Taking a seat next to his favourite moss head, Sanji pulled out his lighter from the inner pocket of his jacket, flippling it open and sparking up a flame.

He lifted it up to Zoro.

"Here, now breathe."

Zoro did as instructed and …

Choked.

Sanji bawled over in laughter as Zoro spluttered and gasped for fresh air, beating his fist against his chest as if trying to swallow the thing choking him down.

"W-water. Get me water."

* * *

A week or so later, the crew and the Merry were within the vicinity of their next destination. It was a Summer Island from the way the hot, dry climate had the crew sprawled out in an unsightly manner. Well the boys anyway, the girls were holed up in their quarter, relieving in the pleasures of the electric fan Nami had invested in for this sole purpose. She had forbidden any and all males from entering, save for poor Chopper who had been suffering the most.

"Nnngg-haa… Sanjii, iiice-cre-"

"Shut up Shitty Gomu, you've already stolen it all."

Sanji came out from the galley, making it a point to stomp on Luffy's head as he walked to the edge of the ship cigarette and lighter at the ready.

"Nnngg…"

"Sanji, don't you feel hot as it is? How can you smoke in this heat? Really, I feel like I'm going to melt just looking at you." Usopp spoke from his spot on the deck of death. He had used his smarts and had taken the part of the ship he knew would be the coolest, this being the great patch of steel holding the main mast in place.

"It's not so bad."

"Hey, Luffy, Zoro, do you think since Sanji smokes all day every day, even on days like this, that he now tastes like cigarettes?"

Zoro scoffed indignantly.

"Idiots, Sanji tastes way better than cigarettes."

"Ohh, Zoro! You know what cigarettes taste like?!"

"Ah… Luffy… I think that's the wrong question you're asking here."

* * *

Ah, I quite enjoyed writing this one. I started with this ending in mind first and I liked how it turned out haha.

Subtle romance as it tends to be with my stories, I hope you enjoyed!

Please leave a review, constructive or not, maybe even a prompt if you deem me worthy enough?


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